Filled with roughly ten chairs, the CREA theatre transformed into an intimate setting. The candles, carpet and lighting all add to the cosy ambiance of the evening filled with spoken word. Here is what you missed!
The doors close and with it comes silence. Of the ten people originally participating in the spoken word course, only two remain. Why that is the case is not clear, but here we are, an eager audience and two speakers. But they do not get the floor just yet. First, the instructor explains how the CREA course works. He is so excited that the anticipation of the audience increases. I can feel myself growing almost impatient. But then finally, the first speaker gets the floor.
She stands, with a straightened back and determination in her eyes. We are thrown into a story from the perspective of a pen. While interesting, the true gem is her second piece, where she gets personal, looks me straight in the eye and says: “when I was young my dad put my hand on his dick.” I feel uncomfortable, but that is the point. Unmet bravery, followed by applause.
A soothing and warm voice fills the room next. That spoken word consist of many different versions becomes increasingly clear: the second speaker switches from rap to slow verses. His flow is interrupted by a child’s voice. It would be annoying; would it not be the speaker’s own child. He reassures his kid and then says that this text is also about him, which does nothing but warm the audience’s heart. We are remined of children’s innocence, while a deeply political piece about discrimination follows.
Some awkward rhymes, but mostly touching stories leave me silent as I walk back into the busy café. A warm and intimate night has reminded me of the beauty of language and listening.